


To Live Again (working title)

by WeirdEmmaline (DeliaDestruction)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Abduction, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Sadism, Slavery, Torture, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:05:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliaDestruction/pseuds/WeirdEmmaline
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn disappeared nearly a decade ago and had been assumed dead. When he was found alive, the worst seemed to have happened. It seemed that the once noble Jedi had fallen to the dark side. Only Obi-Wan believed that he could be saved. But can Obi-Wan avoid falling to the dark side long enough to save the broken man he once called Master?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be very slow going and frankly I’m unsure if it will be finished. Mostly this is a vessel for me to play with my Sith Qui-Gon character, Pacifus. This is the first thing I’ve solo-written in more than a year.

Pacifus woke with a strangled, fearful howl, pushing his blankets away in favor of hiding his head and neck beneath his pillow. The dream has been so real he could still feel his hair standing on end from being electrocuted. His breath came in short, pained rasps, punctuated with trembling cries of pain. 

“Master!” Obi-Wan Kenobi called, alarmed, as he gently grasped the elder man’s shoulder. “Master, you’re all right, I promise. There’s no more danger.”

  
The aged former Jedi struggled harder immediately upon feeling the younger man’s hand against him, then all at once relaxed against him, chest heaving with great, terrible sobs. Gently, far more gently than even the gentle giant whose frame seemed intent on crushing him now had been with him as a padawan, Obi-Wan nudged his former master to roll over before taking him into his arms. “It’s all right, Master. It was just a dream. Nothing is going to harm you, not while I’m around.”

  
The sobbing was deafening, but at this point Obi-Wan was used to it. Well, as used to it as a new parent with a particularly loud and colicky infant might be. It had been two months now since the man who had once been known as Qui-Gon Jinn had finally been rescued from what High Council had unanimously agreed to be the most hellish experience any Master had endured without allowing himself to succumb to the dark side.

  
Though at the same time, they refused to recognize him as a Jedi Master any longer, and Obi-Wan had had to fight quite the desperate battle in order to even keep him there in the Temple. As though there were anywhere else he could go. As though he could survive on his own.

  
“Shhh, it’s all right. You’re safe in the Temple and you’re never going back to that dreadful place.”

  
The mountain of a man slowly wrapped himself around the young Jedi; deeply bruised arms wrapped fearfully around his chest far more tightly than was comfortable for either involved, and for the fifth time in as many days, Obi-Wan felt what he could only describe as the saddest erection pressing against his stomach. If Pacifus was even aware of his body’s physical response to fear, he certainly didn’t show it, and Obi-Wan was not about to needlessly embarrass him by pointing it out.

  
He’d been missing and assumed dead for nearly a decade. Beyond the tale the medical scans that had been taken of him told, not much was known of what happened to the man who had once been called Qui-Gon. He’d answered a few questions and explained one particular “game” his “master” had enjoyed playing with him, but eight years was an awfully long time, and even if he decided to start talking about his time with the Sith, there was no way he would either remember everything or be willing to detail everything.

  
“I- I’m sorry, I-“ The words sounded downright painful as Pacifus forced himself to speak well before he had calmed down enough to do so, and Obi-Wan found himself hugging him tighter.

  
“It’s okay. Do I seem mad? Because I am not, I promise, Master. If anything, just a bit tired. But I’ll gladly sacrifice my sleep if it means I can help you.”

  
Pacifus stiffened slightly in the young Jedi’s arms at the mention of anger, fearful of the painful punishments he’d grown so accustomed to receiving, then he slowly and infuriatingly gently reached out through the Force, probing Obi-Wan for the answer he already knew deep down. The young man felt tired, as he had admitted. Beyond that, he could feel worry and a need to protect him. Beyond that, something he could hardly remember ever feeling from anyone.

  
It was overwhelming, the love that radiated off of the younger man. More love than Pacifus felt he deserved. For a few brief, blissful moments, it had seemed that his crying had finally slowed and would soon cease, but now it began anew as he clung tightly to his former Padawan.

  
“Please,” he begged, “I don’t deserve- I- I’m just— I’m not—“

  
“Shhhh.” Obi-Wan pressed one finger to the elder man’s lips, gently pulling back so that they could look into one another’s eyes in the dim morning light. Upon feeling Obi-Wan begin to pull away, Pacifus’ crying became more desperate and he did his best to hide his face, ashamed of how he was acting. He knew he looked like a fool. So when he felt that finger that had shushed him move down beneath his chin to try and make him properly face the younger man again, he struggled at first.

  
“Pacifus.” There was something so strange and yet powerful about hearing Obi-Wan speak the name he’d been branded with. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to use what he considered to be Qui-Gon’s slave name. But in this moment, it seemed there was little chance the former Jedi would respond with anything but more incoherent sobbing if he used any other name.

  
His crying slowed; his huge, gasping sobs slowly being replaced by quiet, ragged breathing as he lifted his gaze to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes.  
“What can I do to help you feel better?” Obi-Wan asked after allowing him a few minutes to catch his breath and begin to calm down.  
“D- don’t…” Pacifus whined, trying to scoot back and away from Obi-Wan once he’s processed the words. “I don’t deserve—“ Once again, that finger was pressed firmly against his lips, but this time it was replaced very quickly by Obi-Wan’s own lips pressing just as firmly. A startled cry died in Pacifus’ throat as Obi-Wan kissed him, slowly deepening the kiss as the gentle giant once again melted against him.  
For a long moment, Obi-Wan simply continued to kiss his former master. As long as they were kissing and Pacifus wasn’t crying and struggling, it felt like it had before all of this awful mess had started. As long as he kept quiet and he kept kissing him, Obi-Wan’s soul no longer felt the strange sense of homelessness that had plagued him all the years they had been separated.

  
When finally they came up for air, Pacifus growled softly and chased his lips, nipping submissively at his chin. The nearly forgotten about hardness that had been pressing into Obi-Wan’s hip shifted as Pacifus sought out a pose that allowed him to somehow be even closer to his former padawan, and the softest of moans escaped his throat at the delicious friction. The former Sith captive would have been content to simply be allowed to rub himself against Obi-Wan’s hip until completion. But the moment the thought had crossed his mind he dismissed it, opting instead to try and force himself to pull that part of himself away from the warm, slightly sweaty space between them, whining softly in a sad mix of embarrassment and lust.

  
His whining grew slightly more desperate when, rather than allowing his hips to escape, Obi-Wan wrapped a leg around his waist.  
“Obi-“ Pacifus started but before he could begin to struggle, the younger man took his face between his hands and pulled him into another kiss. This was the antithesis of the previous kiss, which had been sweet and gentle and loving. This was desperate and needy and passionate, radiating every suppressed emotion Obi-Wan had kept hidden from the rest of the order in his former master’s absence. Pacifus was terrified and elated all at once. He focused on mirroring Obi-Wan’s actions, shaky fingers combing through the young Knight’s hair as their bodies intertwined.

  
It didn’t take terribly long for Obi-Wan to get Pacifus on his back, though he knew that he had far from managed to subdue his former master. If the larger man wanted, it would take next to no effort for him to shove Obi-Wan away and escape. Obi-Wan made no effort to hide this from him, though the frightened, wild glint in his eyes made him wonder if the gentle giant was able to see it.  
“Pacifus. Focus. You’re safe,” he said, delicately stroking the elder man’s bare chest. In the dim morning light that filtered through the windows above the bed, Obi-Wan couldn’t see the scars that covered his flesh, but he could feel them.

  
Not merely physically, either. Every time his fingers neared a scar, Pacifus’ very soul seemed to howl in pain in the Force. If Obi-Wan lingered long enough on any single scar, he could feel his pain just as strongly as if he’d been in his place under the Sith’s boot. The trauma he’d felt was still so fresh beneath the long-since-healed scars.

  
“Oh, Master…” Obi-Wan breathed, resting his forehead against the older man’s sternum. “What have they done to you?” The room was silent for a long moment as he allowed himself a few selfish moments of feeling Pacifus’ heartbeat against his skin.

  
“You truly do not want to know,” Pacifus whispered finally, allowing trembling hands to slowly travel along Obi-Wan’s back until he reached his hips. His mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts as he tried to formulate a plan to get Obi-Wan off of him. The longer this conversation went on, the less comfortable he found himself.

  
“If you keep everything locked away inside, it’s going to be much harder for you to ever heal, Pacifus. I only want to help you.”  
A low, plaintive whine escaped Pacifus’ throat, punctuated by a hollow-sounding laugh. He dug his fingers into the younger man’s hips, scratching his flesh through the thin fabric of his sleep pants.

  
“And you think that this is helping?” For someone that had just been writhing in fear, his voice sounded oddly cold and haughty. “You would take advantage of a man who spent years being used as a communal cocksleeve for the Sith? That hardly seems helpful.”

  
Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he immediately moved to get off of the other man, but his fingers dug too deeply into his skin, keeping him anchored quite securely in place. “Of course not, I didn’t mean to imply—”

  
“Of course, it- it is my lot in life,” Pacifus continued after a moment, quietly cutting off. His tone was sad, but more than that. It took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that he was disappointed.

  
Feeling his former master so disappointed in him simply broke his heart.

  
“Which of my holes do you want to make use of? Or would you prefer that I-”

  
“Pacifus, stop, please. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking,” Obi-Wan said, once more pressing a finger to the elder man’s lips to quiet him. He tried again to pull away, and this time Pacifus’ grip loosened enough that he could roll back onto the mattress.

  
Once Obi-Wan was off of him, Pacifus was on his feet, stumbling slightly as he stepped away from the bed. ‘I can’t believe that worked,’ he thought.

  
“Master—” Obi-Wan started, but as he reached out for him, Pacifus retreated into the refresher, leaving him alone in the dim morning light.  
The harsh lighting of the fresher made Pacifus look even paler than he’d anticipated, and he gripped the sink in an attempt to keep himself upright as he realized just how close to passing out he really was. The nightmare had been all too real, but then Obi-Wan’s behavior? Pacifus couldn’t understand it. Nothing he’d ever known about the younger man had ever led him to believe him to be capable of taking advantage of someone so vulnerable.

  
But eight years was a terribly long time, and Pacifus knew it to be entirely possible that the sweet young man who wanted desperately to be a good jedi was nothing but an act now. He knew all too well just how easily those around him could mask their true selves simply by showing him some kindness. It was something Lord Sidious had oft done while holding him captive. Though he’d grown wary of his kindness after the first few times, it never stopped him hoping the situation would be different this time.

  
A low whine escaped his throat as he tried to make sense of the confusing thoughts that swirled through his mind. Up until now, he’d actually allowed himself to more or less enjoy living in the temple again. He didn’t have much as far as freedom went, but he could do as he pleased in these shared quarters with Obi-Wan and he could accompany the young knight wherever he wished, and that was a far cry better than what he’d been allowed just a couple short months ago.

  
For a moment as he stared at himself in the mirror, Pacifus could see the golden chains that had adorned his body under Sidious’ care still crisscrossing along his arms and chest. He could almost smell the musky perfume that had choked the air in the Sith’s bedchamber. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks as he lowered himself to his knees. Pressing his forehead against the edge of the counter, Pacifus silently cried himself to sleep in the same lonely, fearful way he had perfected over eight years of torture.


	2. Chapter 2

Pacifus awoke with a start to a gentle hand on his cheek, and he was on his feet within seconds, eyes wild and heart beating right out of his chest.

“Easy--! Qui—Pacifus, it’s me. It’s only me,” Obi-Wan said as he stood back up, narrowly avoiding being knocked over by the older man. “You’re safe.”

“Where—” It took Pacifus a few moments to remember where he was and why he felt like he was surrounded by something that both comforted and terrified him. “Jedi…” The word hung pitiful in the air, but it was not nearly as pitiful as the man who spoke it looked. His hair—which was more gray than brown now and hung nearly to his navel—was horribly tangled on the side he’d fallen asleep on. There were indentations in the skin of his broad chest and shoulders from the fixtures in the fresher, and his sleep pants were bunched up and ripped. It was clear from his face that he’d spent much of the morning crying.

Obi-Wan wanted quite desperately to hug and comfort him, but as he stepped forward, Pacifus’ words from earlier repeated in his mind. He stopped, settling instead for attempting to be a comforting presence in the Force while holding his arms open wide in invitation. “It’s all right, Pacifus. I may have forgotten myself this morning, but I promise things are going to be better starting now.”

“This morning?” Pacifus instinctively began to play dumb, praying that Obi-Wan wouldn’t be so intrusive with the Force as Sidious had been.

“Yes. This morning.” Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, concerned. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to find you lying on the floor… Do I need to bring you to the healers?”

Pacifus could feel the color draining from his face and neck, and he shook his head. “No- No I’m all right. I don’t need… I’ll be fine…”

“Are you sure? It may be smarter to bring you in than to wait, especially after the potential added trauma of this morning. I certainly don’t want you repressing memories of our time spent together now. You’re supposed to be healing and I’m supposed to be helping you do so.”

“I promise, Ob- Obi-Wan, I’m—I’ll be fine.”

The younger man looked him over, narrowing his eyes as he tried to decide whether or not he was being truthful, but finally dropped the subject. “Well. I came in here to make sure you were all right, and to let you know that I went and fetched breakfast for us. Something is telling me that today is not going to be a good day for us to be around crowds.”

The prospect of a day alone together in Obi-Wan’s quarters made Pacifus’ heart race. Up until a few hours ago, he’d been beginning to enjoy being with his former padawan. He wasn’t comfortable being surrounded by so much light, and he was constantly fearing being taken away again or being removed from the temple by the High Council for saying or doing the wrong thing, but he’d been beginning to fall into a routine.

Having Obi-Wan not only acknowledge his body’s learned response to that level of fear, but acknowledge it _in that way_ was humiliating. And terrifying. And all at once he’d managed to cast away the meager amount of trust he’d begun to build up.

“Of course. I- I trust your judgment.” Pacifus paused, attempting to run his fingers through his hair. “I don’t r- remember what happened or why I woke up in- in the bathroom, but if- if- if you think it’s important, perhaps we should speak about it after we’ve eaten?” The guilt emanating off of the younger man grew more intense, but he did not show it physically.

“Of course. I refuse to keep any secrets about you from you, Pacifus. I’m here to help you.”

Was it truly to be so easy to manipulate the younger man? Pacifus swore he smelled a trap, but like a fool he held out hope that Obi-Wan’s intentions were genuine.

Just as Obi-Wan was beginning to let his arms fall, Pacifus crossed the small gap between them and wrapped his arms tightly around him, clinging to him in a way that was all too familiar to the Jedi by now. After a moment’s hesitation, the young man hugged him back, gently running a hand up and down his spine.

After another moment, Obi-Wan pulled away to gently lead the older man out to where he had prepared their meal. Pacifus attempted to cling to him for longer, but didn’t fight once Obi-Wan made it clear that he wasn’t remaining in the fresher to be hugged.

In the main room, on the small dining table, Obi-Wan had laid out a veritable feast. There was no room for either man to use a plate of their own; they would have to share or claim individual side dishes as their own. That didn’t matter to Pacifus, however. All that mattered to him once he saw that food was that he was allowed to eat some of it.

“This is all for us?” he murmured as they took their seats at the table. From the moment they exited the fresher until he spoke, he hadn’t blinked or taken his eyes off of the food. Even with the way they were attempting to fatten him back up to a healthy weight, it was the most food anyone had laid out for him.

“Mostly for you, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured in a tone that gave Pacifus chills at the memories it brought up. For a brief moment, it felt as though they were master and padawan again, with Obi-Wan trying desperately to impress the elder man. Or at least to endear himself to him by way of his stomach. “You’ve not been eating enough the past few days. I know you’ve already said you don’t wish to end up back with the healers, but that’s precisely where you’re going to go if you don’t put on some more weight and soon.”

Pacifus wanted to cry, but by now he was far too dehydrated from the morning spent weeping on the floor. They had been slowly working him up to larger and larger amounts of food, as he had been found starved nearly to death, but it seemed that every time they’d increased his caloric intake the darkness within him kicked his metabolism into overdrive and he saw very little benefit from stuffing himself to contentment.

Aside from the contentment, of course.

 Having so much food offered to him at once seemed like a wonderful dream. And that immediately caused him to become suspicious. 

“Come, you must be starving…” Obi-Wan said, gently grasping the elder man’s shoulder. Pacifus, far too entranced by the sight of all that food, didn’t even flinch at the touch. Obi-Wan fought hard not to show that he noticed. He _wanted_ touch to be normal. Even with the doubts he’d cast upon himself when Pacifus had woken from his nightmare. Obi-Wan didn’t let his hand linger too long, only until Pacifus stepped closer to the table. As much as his soul seemed to cry out for more physical contact, especially after earlier, Obi-Wan couldn’t trust himself to behave if he kept touching himself.

While Pacifus had cried it out in the fresher, Obi-Wan had spent his time in deep introspection. First by retracing his every move since waking up in excruciating detail, then by meditating on his intentions and what had happened…

…and what was best for Pacifus.

No matter what Obi-Wan preferred to do, no matter how desperately he may have wanted things to go back to how they had once been, he knew that he had to act in his former master’s best interest. He only hoped that he could be strong enough to follow through, even if he had a contingency plan in place already. The very last thing he wanted was to make things harder. For either of them.

Pacifus barely waited for the both of them to be seated before he started shoveling food into his mouth. Obi-Wan was happy to see that he wasn’t second-guessing his intentions in this moment. It gave him hope that the incident earlier would prove to be nothing more than a minor setback in the healing process.

Obi-Wan ate slowly, watching with mild amusement as the elder man devoured the food before him. He doubted it possible that Pacifus truly didn’t remember the events of the morning, but if he did, he certainly was putting on a good act. The young Jedi decided to wait until Pacifus had nearly finished eating before he began to speak, but when he did he made certain not to leave anything out. He started with the nightmare that had woken the elder man and told him, quite truthfully, what had happened and what he felt had been his motivations at the time.

Pacifus ate silently, listening attentively to everything Obi-Wan said and focusing on keeping his expression neutral. When he was finished speaking, Obi-Wan leaned forward slightly, waiting for the other to speak.

“I don’t remember any of that,” Pacifus lied, keeping his attention focused on the last bits of his meal. He could feel Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, scrutinizing him, but he said nothing more.

“You’re certain?” Obi-Wan asked. Pacifus shrugged.

“I don’t remember every n- nightmare I have, Obi-Wan.”

The younger man was about to reply, but he thought better of what he intended to say. He supposed, upon more careful consideration, what had happened between them hadn’t been as traumatic as some of the other things he’d experienced. Perhaps the Jedi would have to accept it as only potentially traumatic to himself.

“Well. In any case, I do apologize. It was not right of me to attempt to force myself upon you.” The elder man gave a dark chuckle and shook his head.

“It’s not a problem at all, Obi-Wan. I only wish you’d wait to do such things until I’m coherent enough t- t- to understand what’s going on.” Pacifus stole a glance at him and forced a weak smile. Obi-Wan returned the smile earnestly and clapped him on the shoulder, letting his hand linger there as Pacifus downed the last of his juice.

“Of course, old friend. As I said, I am truly sorry for my actions earlier,” Obi-Wan said. The older man squirmed uncomfortably at his words, shrugging his hand away.  “Would you prefer that I not touch you? I know you were rather… adamant… that I stop touching you earlier…”

Pacifus shook his head. “No… I enjoy your touch, Ob- Obi-Wan… I just…” He trailed off, glancing down toward his lap. “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable… to make th- this time together uncomfortable. You’ve done so much to help me thus far… I- I don’t want to seem like I- like I only want _that…”_

It took Obi-Wan a long moment to realize just what he meant, and his face near-immediately flushed bright red as he averted his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Pacifus. You’ve been conditioned to be like this. You can’t fault your body for reacting as it does. We will simply have to learn to channel that energy elsewhere, won’t we?”

Pacifus nodded stiffly, looking at the floor. It almost seemed as though that was not the answer he’d been hoping for. Obi-Wan, whether by chance or by choice, didn’t notice the strange disappointment in the elder man’s movements. “How shall we spend our time together, then?” He asked quietly, a distinct note of fear to his words. Obi-Wan offered a sympathetic smile and a loving hand lingering on his shoulder.

“You can’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the wonders of the Temple, Master. There’s plenty for a pair of dear old friends to do together,” Obi-Wan said with a small laugh. “Perhaps we can even spar, if you’re feeling up to it. I can’t imagine the Council would refuse to allow you a training saber…”

Pacifus perked up at the idea, then just as quickly sank down, cowering into himself. “I don’t know if I- I trust myself with…”

“What? With a weapon that, at best, creates a painful, but not dangerous burn?” Obi-Wan was careful to keep his tone light and playful. The Force around the elder man was already beginning to feel darker. If Pacifus lost control now…

Obi-Wan didn’t want to think about what might happen. “Or we could go for a swim. If you feel up to it, we could even go for a brief speeder ride.” He knew there really wasn’t as much for them to do together as he’d made it seem, but he couldn’t let himself consider entertaining the idea of taking his former master back to bed. Not now, at least.

 _“You would take advantage of a man who spent years being used as a communal cocksleeve for the Sith? That hardly seems helpful.”_ Pacifus’ words from earlier echoed painfully in his mind. He shook his head.

“So what do you say, Pacifus? Of course, there’s other things we could do. There’s always new systems to explore in the library, or we could meditate…”

Pacifus was quiet for a long moment, looking something between pensive and terrified of making the wrong choice, before finally opening his mouth to speak once more.

“I… If they would actually allow me- me to wield a practice saber, it would be nice to spar. It’s- It’s been too long since… I mean, I would hardly be a thr- threat…”

It broke Obi-Wan’s heart anew to see the man who had once been so confident behaving like a kicked puppy, but that only served to spur him on. He would see Qui-Gon again as the whole and perfect being he had been before. Of that he had no doubt. He nodded, shrugging casually. “I’ll go and ask right now if you’d like. It’ll give you a few minutes to clean yourself up, hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now until the end of this story, I'm going to attempt to update it every 7-10 days. Any/all comments and critique greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy getting to know my Paci.


End file.
